


Renegades

by SapphicReverie



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Romance?, Smut, fluff?, post season5, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicReverie/pseuds/SapphicReverie
Summary: An AU variation that takes places right after season 5. Perhaps, a different take to what could have been the start to season 6.
Relationships: Vera Bennett/Joan Ferguson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	Renegades

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:  
> 1\. You can blame a Sunday afternoon spent reading old FT smut for this.  
> 2\. It's an AU for a single event post season 5.  
> 3\. I've taken liberties (perhaps personal interpretations?) of what Joan could be like after escaping live burial, so her actions here may not seem IC for how we've known her as of yet.  
> 4\. But it's SMUT, so who cares, right?! ;-)  
> 5\. I will be returning to The Flower Duet soon. :)

The black of night envelopes Vera’s little red hatchback as she speeds down the M79, careful not to push too far beyond the posted speed limit so as not to draw attention, but the nervous knot in the pit of her stomach makes it hard to keep her lead foot at bay. It’s been just over twenty four hours since this dubious plan was set in motion and she’s just thirty minutes away from confirming with her own eyes that it had indeed gone to plan.

Out of caution, there had been no contact, aside from the single text to her burner phone notifying the package had been delivered. She’d wanted to do that part herself, but knew that it was safer for all involved to leave the task to the designated third party. Though Murphy knew nothing of her involvement, Vera still didn’t trust her, but Joan had been confident in her assurance that, for the right price, Murphy would keep mute. She had also promised that she would not have Murphy deliver her to the final destination, but rather a waypoint, then she would make the remainder of the journey by other means. Vera had no option but to trust Joan’s judgement, knowing that the woman was always miraculously a step ahead. 

Turning off the main highway onto the C324, she looks again at Joan’s directions, handwritten on a page ripped from one of the books in the prison library. They’d met there, at Joan’s request, just hours after she had been released back into general. Vera almost didn’t show, but the look of absolute defeat in Joan’s eyes when she had beckoned her into medical had haunted her for the remainder of the day. She knew Joan’s death was imminent, that it was only a matter of time before the women came back for their pound of flesh, and the thought of finally losing the spiteful woman had terrified her. Despite all the bitter duels between them, she never had been able to completely cut ties with the same woman that had also shown her salvation.

She’d found Joan hidden between the high shelves of untouched books, and she was disturbed when the formidable woman had actually flinched as she heard her turn the corner, a fleeting flash of fear clouding her usually piercing onyx eyes. There had been a long silence between them, full of complex emotions that words could not describe. Eventually, she’d broken the silence; “I don’t want you to die,” she’d whispered as she blinked and a single tear tumbled from her watery eyes. Joan had reached up then, a gentle thumb brushing the tear from her cheek as her red-rimmed, glassy gaze settled on Vera’s face. Regret drew her stern brow together and a pale palm cupped Vera’s trembling jaw. “I’m sorry, Vera. For everything.” Hours later, they’d met again and Joan had hastily conveyed her plan. Vera had agreed to take part, knowing the high stakes, but willing to take the risk if it meant protecting Joan. 

As Joan’s instructions indicate, she turns on Crozier Rd in Cobaw, taking the first right onto an old country lane. Following it a half mile, she turns off onto a gravel drive that makes a winding trek into a copse of trees, where a small white wooden house sits. A dim light can be seen from the kitchen window as she pulls up, which goes out as soon as she turns off the ignition. She retrieves the bag of Joan’s requested items from the boot and with a nervous inhale, she proceeds to the house. Stepping onto the front porch, she places a gentle knock on the door. She hears the creak of floorboards on the other side and leans in close to listen as they stop mere inches away. When there’s no further progress, she calls to the other side. “It’s me,“ her voice trembles slightly as she whispers into the door frame. After a pause, the latch disengages and the door slowly creeps open.

Stepping inside, the door closes behind her and she sets the bag on the floor, turning around to watch Joan as she locks the deadbolt. Her heart hammers wildy in her chest as Joan turns and she makes eye contact with the older woman. Joan’s eyes are red and sunken, her face paler than Vera’s ever seen it before. It scares her to see the former governor in such a vulnerable state. Propelled by concern, she steps to the taller woman and grabs her hand, but Joan flinches and quickly draws it away. Vera looks down to see the swollen knuckles covered in open wounds and her face flashes with obvious distress as she looks back up to Joan’s timid eyes. “Joan, what happened?” Joan draws the long sleeve of her jumper over her hand, shaking her head as she moves off down the hall. “Nothing. It’s fine.” She knows Vera couldn’t handle the truth of knowing she was buried alive, nor is she willing to relive the particular nightmare by telling. 

Vera follows her into the small kitchen where there’s a pot of tea sitting on the table. Joan pulls another mug from the cabinet, handing it to Vera as she takes a seat. She cups her mug between both hands and Vera frowns at the deep cuts that mar every beautiful knuckle and the jagged edges of her once pristine nails. Vera knows that something terrible has happened, but she remains silent because she knows Joan won’t tell the truth. So much lies on the tip of her tongue, but the words stick like flies on rotting fruit.

“Have you eaten?” Joan suddenly asks, as if she suddenly remembers it’s the proper thing to offer when one’s seated at the table. “Earlier, yes.” Joan falls back to silence, her gaze drifting off to stare at some distant spot across the room as the words of her father’s mantra echo in her head. Vera hasn’t seen her this disconnected since the time she went to visit her in Sinclair and her stomach churns at the memory. Joan finishes her mug in silence before she finally speaks again. “There’s a nice tub here. I’ll draw you a bath while you finish your tea.” She rises from the table and leaves the room before Vera even has a chance to respond. 

A few minutes later Vera enters the bathroom just as Joan turns off the tap. Steam wafts up from the deep basin of the antique clawfoot tub and she offers a grateful smile as she places her change of clothes on the sink. “Thank you,” she whispers gently and loses her nerve before saying anything more. Joan looks up to meet her gaze and offers a slight nod of her head then quietly leaves the room. She begins to undress, stopping to fold each article of clothing before placing it on the toilet seat. She’s honestly grateful for a hot bath after such a taxing day. Suddenly, the door creaks open and Joan enters, a fresh set of towels in hand. Looking up, her mouth falls open when her gaze lands upon Vera’s naked frame and she deposits them on the sink as she quickly turns her back. “Oh, sorry, I ummm…” she trails off awkwardly as she heads toward the door, but a tiny hand gently seizes her wrist and she stops dead.

“It’s….ok. Nothing you haven’t...seen before.” Vera murmurs, suddenly imbued with a shot of courage. Joan stretches her neck and closes her eyes, her proud chin jutting as the cherished memories suddenly flash behind her eyelids, only to be just as quickly replaced with the slap that started the beginning of the end. Again, regret washes through her and sadness makes her eyelids heavy when she finally draws them back open, her nostril flaring when she speaks. “A lot has happened since then,” she whispers, unable to hide the sorrow from her voice. Persistent fingers flex gently against her wrist and she feels Vera take a step closer behind her. “That’s all in the past.” She counters earnestly. “Have a bath with me. Wipe the slate clean?” The magnetism between them is far too great, and forgiveness comes as second nature for those led by humanity.

Joan wilts, decays and is reborn again in a single moment, as those honeyed words seep into her soul and mend her broken heart. She turns, meeting Vera’s hopeful gaze and wordlessly strips off her armor. Vera smiles shyly and steps into the tub, then slips beneath the soothing heat, sliding her back against the end to make room for Joan on the opposite side. She watches Joan’s Junoesque frame as she lowers herself into the bath and marvels at how, after all they’ve been through, the older woman still manages to take her breath away. 

Joan awkwardly covers her exquisite breasts, her long arms wrapping across her broad shoulders. “Does it hurt?” Vera suddenly says, confusing Joan until she follows the seafoam gaze that settles on the scarlet letter that brands her throat. “Fleetingly,” she replies simply. “And these?” Vera reaches forward, gently grabbing Joan’s hands and drawing them just above the waterline between them. Concern is etched across her brow as she tenderly turns them for inspection. “Will you tell me what happened?” Joan stiffens slightly and avoids Vera’s imploring eyes. “Doesn’t matter; they’ll heal,” she whispers nervously.

On instinct, Vera doesn’t press her further. Instead, she takes one hand and draws it slowly to her mouth, placing a tender kiss on the back of Joan’s palm before dipping a hand into the warm water then lifting it to trickle a stream across the painful looking cuts. Joan’s lip twitches slightly but she doesn’t move as she watches, transfixed, as Vera washes her wounds with a tenderness that makes her eyes grow glassy. “I don’t...deserve your kindness, after all the pain I’ve caused you.” Joan mutters as her umber eyes stay locked on their hands intertwined between them. Vera stills and watches Joan until the older woman meets her gaze. “Doesn’t matter; I’ll heal.”

A breathless sigh escapes Joan’s parted lips as she blinks, tears filling, but not spilling from her umber eyes. The tightness that consumes her chest nearly takes her breath away. She knows it’s love, but she’s rendered speechless by the enormity of emotions surging through her. Reaching up, she gently cups Vera’s face in her hands, holding her gaze in wordless wonder. Vera smiles kindly, placing her own hand atop Joan’s against her cheek. With aching slowness Joan leans in, until her lips fall gently against Vera’s waiting mouth, black and blues slipping closed from the blissful connection. The kiss simply lingers for a moment before it gradually begins to build as Joan’s fingers leisurely sweep back to cradle Vera’s head while she draws her closer.

Wanting for air, their lips part but linger a whisper away as they both drink in a deep inhale. This time Vera draws Joan back in, wrapping toned arms around Joan’s swan-like neck as she slides across the tub to seal the distance between them. They gasp in unison as their breasts collide and Joan encircles Vera’s small frame with her long arms when her tongue probes softly into the younger woman’s mouth. Coltish thighs wrap around her hips and she moans into the kiss as it grows into an old, familiar ballet of lips and tongues.

Drawing back with a gasp, Vera turns her face skyward, bottom lip trapped between teeth as Joan’s lips blaze a trail down the corded path of her throat before peeling off to make the return journey along the side of her neck. When Joan’s tongue lathes the sensitive spot beneath her ear, she moans, curling slender fingers in midnight tresses. “Joan,” she gasps as those delicious lips momentarily part from her skin, “I need you to make love to me.” Uncurling her legs, she slips from Joan’s lap and rises to get out of the tub. Joan follows suit, taking her hand and leading her towards the bedroom, their bodies dripping pools along the worn-in wooden floor.

Joan moves onto the bed, sliding across the duvet until she’s sitting in the middle. Vera follows, crawling up until she settles herself astride Joan’s lap, running trembling fingers through Joan’s thick curtain of hair as she draws her into another searing kiss. Joan’s hands glide up smooth olive skin, skating across the dips and curves of Vera’s lean back, relishing the intimate contact she often recalled in her dreams. Her lips return to their path down Vera’s taut throat, wandering briefly across a sharp collarbone before descending further to small, pert breasts. She takes a tawny nipple into her mouth, sucking gently as her teeth rasp across the sensitive nub, causing Vera to drop her chin and sigh indulgently. Joan rotates between breasts until she’s had her fill and her tongue craves to taste something more.

Suddenly, she wraps large hands around Vera’s lean thighs, rolling the smaller woman on her back with ease. Vera gasps at the unexpected move, hooking an arm around Joan’s neck as she draws herself up to drag full lips along the handsome curve of Joan’s jaw. Joan peels away, her mouth longing to return to sun-kissed skin, so she shifts her body lower, placing open mouthed kisses and nibbles down Vera’s slender frame. 

Finally she reaches the apex of Vera’s thighs, wrapping strong arms around narrow hips, alternating teasing kisses against the smooth skin on a slow trek to Vera’s sex. Persistent fingers weave into the dark hair at her crown and from above Vera quietly begs, “Please Joan,” and it’s all she needs to hear to return home.

Licking a single languid pass up the length of Vera’s slit, she hums in pleasure as her regal mouth settles upon Vera’s center and her tongue sinks into the wet divide. Vera twitches and lets loose a wanton moan, her fingers tightening in Joan’s hair as the older woman licks firmly at her frills. Joan sucks deeply and Vera’s hands fall away to twist the sheets as she begins to pant with desire. The sound is beautiful music to Joan’s ears. She continues working Vera’s wet heat until the small woman begins to vibrate and she sucks in a ragged breath. And then the orgasmic seizure; her small frame grows rigid as she releases a long, lustful moan and a flood of liquid arousal slides from her pulsing cunt. A moan gurgles from Joan’s throat as she laps the liquid spoils from Vera’s sex, sending a sweet vibration into highly sensitive flesh, causing Vera to twitch and scoot away. Joan unwinds her arms from Vera’s thighs and lifts her head with a coy smile. Crawling up to Vera’s face, she straddles the petite woman and bestows a long, passionate kiss.

Vera wraps her arms around Joan’s back as they break apart, drawing succulent breasts to her waiting mouth. She circles firm pink nipples with rings of feather-light kisses before sucking one in firmly to her mouth, assaulting it with rough flicks of her stiff tongue. Joan mewls and throws her head back in pleasure. One hand dips to Joan’s ass, kneading and squeezing the pliant muscle, while the other takes a dive between their bodies, eventually burying deep between Joan’s milky thighs. 

She sets a slow rhythm there, small fingers teasing surprisingly wet folds, coaxing delicious moans and sighs of pleasure from Joan’s parted lips. Long ivory fingers tug roughly at chestnut waves as Vera continues her oral assault on sensitive breasts, timing each flick or bite with the rhythm of the steady hand below. “I need you inside,” Joan suddenly husks as she drops her chin and her hips begin to slowly gyrate. Needing no further instruction, Vera slides her fingers lower, coating them liberally with Joan’s arousal before sinking three deep into the well of Joan’s cunt. Joan groans at the welcome intrusion and begins to rock her hips in time with Vera’s thrusting. Her breath grows increasingly shallow as the chords of pulsing pleasure begin to radiate through her body. 

Vera shifts her wrist to get a better angle and Joan trembles, releasing a deliciously concupiscent moan as she increases the speed of her gyrations. “More,” she mewls as she draws Vera’s head from her breast and places a rough kiss against her mouth, pulling back with a bite to a full bottom lip. Vera adds another finger, thrusting all but her thumb hard and deep into Joan’s soaking cunt. Joan groans in approval, opening her eyes and meeting Vera’s awestruck gaze as she continues to pump her fingers, the earthy scent of Joan’s arousal filling the air between them. Lifting her thumb, Vera places it on Joan’s clit and rotates twice before Joan’s eyes roll closed and she freezes, gasping suddenly before her blinding orgasm draws a stream of breathless pants from her slack mouth. Vera gently withdraws her hand, wrapping her arms tightly around Joan’s waist and burying her face between the valley of her breasts. 

Moments later Joan finally recovers from the last pulsing waves of pleasure that seized her body. She tenderly draws Vera’s face from her chest, gazing into wide ocean eyes before she leans down and places a lingering, reverent kiss. Drawing away, she offers a small smile before confessing a truth she’s carried for the last few years.

“I never stopped caring.” 

Right now, it’s the closest thing to an “I love you.” 


End file.
